The Inevitable
by whatarefishfingers
Summary: When the smoke cleared, there was no light. When he was gone, here was no recovering. When he saw golden hair,he was obsessed. When Lovett and Todd were hired by Turpin,the money meant nothing. When he finally had her, escape was almost inevitable. Almost
1. Chapter 1

Bent over another customer, Sweeney Todd smirked to himself as he lathered the shaving cream onto the man's face. Luckily, this was a silent type of guy. He usually saw it fit to shave the face of men who didn't bother to try and talk to him, he kept his mind clear and focused. Slicing the razor across the man's face gracefully, the barber didn't notice the vibrations of his throat as he seemed to hum quietly.

When he was done, he quickly slashed through the jugular and relished in the fountain of red that rained upon him. NO matter how many times it had been done, Sweeney could not stop the feeling of pure joy, as if it were the first time again, of bloody rubies cascading down the necks of the unfortunate.

He stepped on the peddle and kept the trap door open long enough to hear the sweet, spine-tingling _crunch_ of the skull. He was in a bad mood today. Why? Because its been _months_ since the Judge had ran out of his shop in a fit of rage due to the sailor boy. He was so _close. _

He ground his teeth, the memory only increasing the soul killing pain of waiting for his second chance at revenge.

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><p>Downstairs, Nellie Lovett and Tobias Ragg scampered about the shop, trying to meet the demands of every customer that shouted his or her order. "Toby!" Lovett called as she came up the stairs to the bake house, a tray full of hot pies in hand. "Be a dear an' tend to the customers, would ya, love?" she aksed sweetly as she offered the tray.<p>

The boy quickly took it and rushed a quick, "Sure thin', mum!" out of his mouth before hurrying out to the courtyard to serve the people. Sighing to herself tiredly, Mrs. Lovett grabbed a few slices of bread and little thing of jam for her barber's lunch. She froze, the thought hanging still in her empty head.

_Her barber._

No, 'e'll never be yours,

she shakes her head slowly and sighs sadly. _No, 'e'll always belong' to 'er. Always will be busy with the bloody Judge. _She tells herself as tears begin to prickle at the corners of her eyes. The baker wipes them from her face and goes back to setting a tot of gin on the small, tarnished tray, stopping at her vanity mirror to make sure her face is clear of redness or any other sign of her tears. Clear of anything to upset him, Mrs. Lovett hurries up to her tenant's shop.

Like any other occasion she comes up to see him, she doesn't bother to knock as she let's herself in, a small smile plastered on her plump lips as the bells chimes dully. Again, he's at the window, brooding his life away and planning his mind to madness. He doesn't acknowledge her presence in the hollow room.

"Brought ya some breakfast, Mr. T." she offers casually, a low grunt her only reply. Rolling her eyes, Mrs. Lovett huffs quietly as she takes a few steps into the room, her heels clicking loudly behind her compared to the stale silence of the shop.

"Oh, come now, love. Ya can' scare 'im away with yer stomach a-screamin'." Silence is her answer. "Please, Mr. T, jus' a bite. Just so ya don' waste away a'fore ya can get 'im." she urges, her voice somewhat desperate and loving. Another pause between the two happens before he growls lowly, "On the vanity."

Mrs. Lovett doesn't wait to obey, setting the tray lightly on the vanity with the chattered mirror, a small smile on her face. When she stands, she merely stands there for a moment, staring at the barber's profile. Her pale complexion made her look tanned in comparison to his porcelain glow. _Tha's pretty odd, now isn't it?_ she found herself thinking curiously. _Seein' how 'es been Australia for fifteen years._

Her eyes flickered to his thin, chapped lips as he appeared to be muttering to himself. Oh, what she wouldn't give to feel those pale lips against her own...

The baker shivered at the thought, as if feeling the ghost-like tickle of the thin lips trail light as butterfly wings kisses up her neck. Mrs. Lovett's eyes slowly dragged from his lips to his mess of hair. The coal black strands flicked and curled every which way, the lighting stripe of pure white splashed across the pitch black canvas, displaying his pain and fear back in that horrible country. Oh, how long she yearned the feel of her small, bony fingers running his hair. _Like angel woven silk_, she mused as a dreamy smile spread across her face.

Suddenly, Sweeney's eyes shot to her, making her jump in surprise. "Well." he breathed darkly. "What are you still here for? Get out." he ordered through clenched teeth as he looked out the window once more.

Mrs. Lovett felt herself sigh sadly as her heart dropped slightly. _No, please, just' let me look at you for a few more moments, just a few..._

When she didn't take a step toward the door, the barber let out a yell of anger as he shoved up against the wall, the razor he'd been fiddling with at her neck. Her eyes widened in fear, knowing all too well how he wouldn't hesitate to kill her. "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU WAITING FOR? I SAID OUT, WOMAN!" Sweeney yelled in her face as he pressed the razor harder against her skin.

Mrs. Lovett flinched as she felt a powerful sting and the sensation of warm blood running down her throat, over her collar bone and disappearing down the front of her dress. He grinned evilly and threw her toward the door. "Now, OUT I SAY!" she flew out the door before he finished speaking.

The pair went about their day as usual, neither speaking to the other. Then, at the end of the day, the baker quickly worked to put together a light supper for the barber. Toby watched from one of the booths distastefully, half a bottle of gin in his hand. He doesn't know why she works so hard to try and please the man when she knows just as the sun comes over the horizon every morning that she could go around just in her kickers singing like the old Beggar woman and he wouldn't even look in her direction.

No, it always escapes the boy. Why? Why would she do it all for Mr. Sweeney Todd? He expects to die without a clue. "Mum," Toby speaks up clearly, careful as to ask his question so as not to upset her. "Yes, dear?" she breathes heavily as she bustles about the kitchen, looking for what she assumes is the barber's favorite foods from way back when.

The boy scratches the back of his head nervously. "Well, its jus'...I was thinkin' an' all an'...", "Come now, Toby dear, ya know you can talk to me 'bout anythin'." Mrs. Lovett quickly huffs in a hurry-up-and-come-out-with-it-would-ya! tone as she bends down to look through the cupboards

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. "Why do you love Mr. Todd when you know he'll never love you back?"

**WHAM!**

Mrs. Lovett curses loudly as she pulls out of the cupboard, rubbing the sore spot on the back of her head. She struggles to stand for a moment before she leans against the flour covered counter, staring down and sighing heavily. Toby blushes and looks away, thinking of apologizing after an awkward silence before she replies in a whisper,"You wouldn't understand, Toby."

He looks at his lap in a defeated fashion, his eyes closed in frustration, he knew what she meant. Living half his life in the work house with other boys-older boys-and the other half with Pirelli had him smart. He knew had his answer:

She was in love with Sweeney Todd.

Toby immediately regretted asking the first place. He sighed to himself, it didn't that he already had notion of the idea, but hearing it, as well as it being confirmed to him, it only made the pain of it that much more worse.

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><p><strong>OK, guys I know nothing really happens, but believe me the next crappie will be an action-y one! Hope you all review and Lovett!<strong>

**Sweeney: (winces) that's a terrible pun.**

**Me: NO its not, a lot of people use it, even though they don't use it correctly all the time.**

**Sweeney: (rolls eyes) How do they use it 'incorrectly'?**

**me: Well, some people say, 'Oh, I'm so in Lovett', or 'I'm lovetting it!', and sometimes 'I'm Lovett!'**

**Lovett: But I'M Lovett!**

**Me: we all know that, we mean it was a compliment, though I can't think how**

**Sweeney: Oh, just shut up and update (grumbles) like you ever do**

**Me: Hey, I'm busy a lot of times!**

**Sweeney: Yeah, sure, whatever**

**Lovett: come on, love, you know how people can be when they're busy. I'm busy all the time yet I still find the time to help you out.**

**Sweeney: I DON'T NEED NO BLOODY HELP!**

**Me: Doesn't matter, say thank you!**

**Sweeney: HELL NO! she never shuts up and every time she talks to some bloke I'm always in fear she'll spill the whole murder deal!**

**Lovett :(**

**Me: Mark my words, Todd, I WILL get you to say thank you to Lovett before the fourth chapter!**

**Sweeney: (grins) bring it!**


	2. Chapter 2

Mrs. Lovett never really cared for reality, not really. Which why she loved the night time more than any other time of the day. The night was a time when she could sleep, drowning her sorrows and unrequited love in happily perfect dreams of the sea side, or a of a small family, or just when Sweeney would get his revenge and realize that she'd been there for him the whole time. It was different from dream to dream. Sometimes it would be a 'what if' situation. What if Benjamin was never sent away? What if Benjamin married her instead of the at silly little nit Lucy? What if that stupid sailor hadn't busted in on the Judge and Sweeney?

Other times it was a hopeless romantic's situation. Like if she were to get sick and the barber would nurse her back to help, falling in love with her while he did so. Or if he rescued her form an unwanted suitor. Oh, or maybe he would get insanely jealous of some bloke talking to her and admit his feelings and claim her for his own! This particular dream made her smile widen and her eyes flutter closed in bliss as she lay in bed.

Whatever the case, the creams always end the same, she and Sweeney living by the sea together happily, with Toby, some children, or just by themselves. It didn't matter to her. Nellie Lovett was just a dreamer.

She tossed in turned in bed, sighing sadly to herself as she thought them, her dreams. Just dreams, and nothing more. _Maybe its time I moved on,_ she thought gloomily to herself. _I know 'm pretty enough to 'ave almost any bloke I want._

But alas, the more the thought same clear to her mind, the more she detested it. No matter what the idea came to: a loving husband, a few children, maybe a house by the sea, just like she had always dreamed.

_Still,_ Mrs. Lovett told herself firmly, an upsetting frown on her pale face. _If it ain't Mr. T, it ain't never gonna be me dream come true. _This thought held the baker's thoughts and heart tight as she began to slip into her dreamy sleep.

Suddenly, a loud _thud _exploded form above, springing Mrs. Lovett out of bed as if it were set on fire. "MR. T!" she screamed, rushing outside and up the stairs, ignoring the fact she was clad only in her night gown. She burst through the door, barely giving herself enough time to turn the knob as she very nearly crashed into the wood.

"WHAT'S GOIN' ON?" She shrieked, her face wrapped in panic. There was the barber, standing beside his chair, a snarl on his face. Mrs. Lovett's eyes frantically searched the room for any sign of any damage he might have inflicted on himself or anything of the sort.

She saw the vanity mirror had been shattered, his razors scattered here and there across the wooden floor, a few of them lodged into the wall beside her head. She cautiously stepped into the room and around the chair She gasped as her eyes landed on Sweeney's bloodied knuckles, the red liquid dripping over his fingers, landing in a small puddle beside his boots.

"Mr. T, Wot were you thinking?" Mrs. Lovett gasped as she carefully took the barber's bleeding clenched fist in her hands. "Cutting' yourself with your razors! 'Ave you lost your marbles, you daft man!" she went on dragging him downstairs to look for a first aid kit. "I didn't bloody cut myself!" he yelled in anger, yanking his his hand free from her grasp.

He turned back to face the window. "I cut it punching the damned mirror." he growled through clenched teeth .

She just stood there and looked at him like he was crazy, which she pretty sure he was. Then, she made a face and made her way downstairs, muttering, "Stubborn, daft, insufferable man!" under her breath. Sweeney didn't look back, assuming she had left to go back to bed.

He let out a low growl as he heard the bell tinkle lightly, alerting him of her presence. "Still, tha's no excuse for 'urtin' yourself," the baker mumbled, morely to herself than him as she took out the first aid kit, the candle she had brought flickering shadows against the wallpaper from its place on the vanity. When she tried to take his hand to bandage it, he just growled like an animal and yanked it away. She rolled her eyes.

"Come now, Mr. T, you're actin' like a little child." she huffed in irritation. Still, the barber didn't move as he glared at her. Mrs. Lovett reached for his hand again slowly, a small smile crossing her face when he didn't pull away.

"Now, this migh' sting a little," she warned as she picked up a bottle of gin. Sweeney cringed as she pulled the liquor over his cuts, the liquid sliding over his hand and soaking into the floor in ribbons. She then set the bottle aside and reached for the bandages.

"If you don' mind me askin'," Mrs. Lovett said quietly. He looked at her expectantly and she looked up at him shyly. "But wot made you punch the mirror the way you did?"

He looked away, "Its none of your business, woman." he growled She sighed, knowing she wasn't ping to get much of an answer, but pushed for one anyway.

"Come now, surely there must be some reason why you-", "I SAID ITS NON OF YOUR DAMNED BUSINESS!" Sweeney yelled, again tearing his hand from her grasp as she was just about to wrap the bandages. She made a face and planted her hands on her hips. "Well, excuse me for worryin' abou' you!"

He stood and pushed her to the ground. "I don't need you to worry about me or look after me!" his shouts of anger grew louder. "I am not a damned child, Mrs. Lovett!"

Her flushed with anger, she stood and tried to look intimidating, but knowing all too well that he was at least a head or two taller than she. "WELL, IT AIN'T MY FAULT THAT YOU _DO_ACT LIKE A CHILD!" Mrs. Lovett tried to match his volume. "HITTIN' AN' THROWIN' THINGS, YOU'RE NO BETTER THAN A TODDLER I SWEAR IT!"

He lost it. Sweeney reached into his holster and whipped out yet another razor he had kept at his side and advance toward his landlady. She quickly ducked under his arm and and turned for the door, he was faster.

He grabbed the candle and its holder that sat idly on the vanity and chucked it at her. The metal holder smashed just beside her head as she reached the knob, while the candle fell to the floor. The next thing either of them knew, the whole room was engulfed in blinding bright red and gold flames.


	3. Chapter 3

Their eyes widened in panic and fright. Mrs. Lovett scrambled to get hold of the door knob in her grasp, but the heat and the thought that she could, and probably would, die at any given second and had made her heads shaky and sweaty. She gave a loud yelp of pain as the flames licked at the metal knob, burning her hands a nasty red. "I CAN' GET THE DOOR! THE FIRES DONE GONE AN' BURNT IT!" She shouted to Sweeney over the roar of the fire swallowing the floor. Soon, the whole room was filled with bright red, orange, and golden ribbons whipping through the air everywhere. It burned her eyes just looking at them, every blink not bringing calming darkness, but only dulling the vivid colors slightly.

Sweeney looked at the baker like she was crazy before rushing over the rising flames to her. He tried the knob only to hiss as he snapped his burnt hand back to him.

Mrs. Lovett looked at him like _he _was crazy. "WOT DID I JUS' SAY? YOU NEVER LISTEN!" He didn't look at her, his eyes busy darting this way and that through the blazing, now brightly gold room. This made her even more angry with him and continued to scream, "** IF YOU'D LISTEN TO ME TO** **BEGIN WITH, WE WOULDN'T **_BE _**ABOU' TO BE EATEN BY** FLAMES!" He didn't look at her, or even showed she had said anything at all. "**YOU'RE STILL NOT LISTENING!"**

Finally, Sweeney looked at her and she froze. It was His face stony and expression less, his eyes were so still, thoughtful even, as they finally concentrated on her, and only her.

Just like she'd wanted.

His eyes shot to the window and back to her so fast she thought she'd imagined it. Suddenly, he swept her off her feet. Literally. He dashed underneath her, gathering her, skirts and all, into his arms and she threw her arms around his neck with a yelp of surprise. The barber made a dash for the window and she screamed in his ear, "**WOT THE BLOODY 'ELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOIN'?"**Then, the baker's eyes widened in understanding as they neared the large window over looking them, tearing through the surrounding fire licking their feet.

Sweeney and Lovett were only a step away from the moon lit sky before she found her voice, "**NO!" **but it was too late. Even if it weren't, he still wouldn't have looked at her, his focus set completely on bursting through the glass.

She shut her eyes tight and buried her face in the crook of his pale neck as she heard a loud shattering noise that drowned out everything. It drowned out her and the barber's sharp intake of breath, drowned out the roar of hell's fire just behind them, drowned out her heart beat, everything.

Then, it wasn't the only she heard.

Very quickly, all too fast, it seems, the bone chilling sound of wind whistled in her ear as the pair descended into the night sky. Her stomach flew o her throat and she let out a small shriek, where as Sweeney held it in, growling deeply in his throat. The wind also pieced her skin as they dove toward the cobblestone ground.

The next few seconds were silence, the only sound Mrs. Lovett heard was that of her own heartbeat. The next thing she knew, she hits the ground with a loud _THUMP!_Her skirts tangled around her legs as she clutched at her head, sure she had a concussion as she felt a trickle of warm blood run down the side of her face.

"Mr. T..." she moaned as she tried to turn her head. Sweeney was just beside her, already attempting to stand, but lost his footing, falling to the ground

Mrs. Lovett went to help him, but her head was exploding inside, the back of her very mind being split into two as she grabbed at it again.

She sat on her knees, cradling her head in her hands, letting out a hiss of pain every now and then for a few moment before she heard the barber's heavy footsteps stop in front of her. "Are you alright?" he asked as if it were a simple statement of the weather than a question of her health.

She hissed again and managed to moan a, "Yes." in reply. He reached for her hand, despite that she didn't even look up at him, and took it surprising gently and carefully. Mrs. Lovett would have gasped in surprise at how gentle he was being with her had not every breath she took added to the immense pain in her head.

He pulled her up and she clutched at the front of his shirt, steadying herself on her shaky legs. She met his cold, indifferent eyes with her frightened ones, neither breaking eye contact.

They stood there for a while, neither one moving. Suddenly, a window busted a fire spat out of it, having now quickly made its way toward the lower building. Mrs. Lovett looked at her home and gasped. She immediately shot into a sprint toward the flaming building. Sweeney caught her hand.

"What do you think you're doing?" he growled through clenched teeth. She didn't look at him, only tried to pull away.

"TOBY!" she screamed, her heart pounding as she tried to tear herself from the barber. "H-HES STILL IN THERE!"

Sweeney didn't let go, he held tight to her wrist and tried to pull her to him. "Hes gone. You can't save him now. Now in that fire-", "I DON' CARE! I'M NOT LEAVING 'IM!" He let out a low growl and turned her around to face him and held her shoulders tight in his hands.

"YOU CAN'T SAVE HIM, LOVETT!" he tried to convince her fiercely, his voice coming out as a vicious growl through his clenched teeth. She just stared at him like he was crazy, not seeing that he was trying to make her see that she was acting crazy.

"**THAT FIRE WILL CONSUME YOU IF YOU EVEN DARE TO GET NEAR IT! THAT BUILDING **_WILL _**BURN TO THE GROUND AND THAT BOY **_WILL _**BE IN THERE WHEN IT DOES**!" his yelling slowly grew louder and more vicious, like that fire itself. Mrs. Lovett just stood there and stared at him, trying to listen, really _listen, _to his words. "**THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT! EITHER YOU STAY HERE AND WATCH EVERYTHING GO TO HELL!"** Then he looked at her, her eyes wide, unseeing as tears swam around in them, her rat's nest of red curls clinging to her ghostly pale face from the sweat of the fire. She looked so helpless, so hopeful So..._Benjamin._

Sweeney's pale face softened, as he took her in, knowing the feeling of helplessness, the loneliness, and the hope of dreams that would never be. His hands loosened their grip on her shoulders, but did not move as he took in a breath. "Or you can turn away from the nightmare and save yourself from the shadows of demons." he whispered, his voice sounding as if he were close to tears as well as that of eerie comfort.

Mrs. Lovett just looked at him, her eyes set and determined. "No." she said firmly, though she made no move. "I can' leave 'im, Mr. T." her voice became far away and dreamy, as if she were somewhere else. "I promised 'im that I'd show him 'ow to make the pies tomorrow," a small smile came over her face, her eyes unseeing as she look beyond him, beyond today to somewhere happier than here. "'E always wanted to 'elp make the pies, did you know tha', Mr. T? 'E always wanted 'elp, was always there to 'elp... his dear ole mum...!" she burst into hysterical sobs and then he knew she had given up, had been broken.

He said nothing as he took her in his arms, holding her tightly against his chest as she held onto him for dear life, his hot tears soaking through his shirt.

Weeny stroked her messy red curls and rubbed her back, whispering comforting words as she cried, cried her shattered heart out over the roaring of the monstrous fire, now towering above them as tall as the shop. He gazed at his shop, his home, as it fell onto the lower pie shop and the baker's home, knowing that a life had been lost inside.

Mrs. Lovett's sobs grew into pain filled shrieks as she heard the building crash, the fire still eating away at the fallen wood. "Shh..." he cooed, his arms tight around her shoulders. "Its OK, shh...At least he died in his sleep, pet." she showed no signs of hearing him as she pulled him with her to the ground, her skirts pooling around them. He didn't pull back.

"He died in a dream."

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><p><strong>Hope you guys like it, And don't worry, I'm working on my other fics as well. Sorry I had to kill off Toby.<strong>

**Lovett: TOBY! *cries***

**Me: Oh, Lovett I'm so sorry.**

**Sweeney: THank You! I've been meaning to get rid of that urchin.**

**Lovett: You're terible!**

**Sweeney: *grins* thank you**

**Me: blows a blow horn in his ear* HAHAHAHA!**

**Sweeney: *holding ear** WTF?**

**Me: YOU SAID 'THANK YOU' TO LOVETT! HA!**

**Sweeney: you all suck.**


	4. Chapter 4

They wondered through the streets of London aimlessly, searching for an inn to rest themselves for the night. Sweeney held onto Lovett, his arm wrapped securely around her shoulders, fearing she break down into sobs. They didn't talk, for neither really knew what to say. Didn't even discuss of what was to happen now, how He was going to get his revenge, or where they would live.

Instead the two listened to the dark world around them, their ears catching the lively sounds of life they didn't know had existed past the sun's dark rays.

Dogs and cats barked and hissed through the sky, the streets lights lit up the dark roads with a sharp glow. The yells and laughter of drunks in a local tavern faded as they continued to walk down the streets blindly. Both held their breath as smoke escaped a door left ajar to an nearby Opium house, the occupants barley visible through the tinted windows. A butcher a few feet away hacked away at a poor animal's limbs as they passed. Neither cringed or anything of the sort when a sickening _Crrraaackkkk!_of bone came to their ears.

They passed various men trying to sell things or plain out rob who however to be walking out that late at night, save themselves. The barber's hard stare was more than enough to drive anybody who'd eyed them scamper away with their tails between their legs. The pair kept walking, where, they weren't really sure, but it was better than staying and watch the place burn, watching him burn

A small group of whores came into view as the two came close to yet another dark alley way. They were crowded about one another, probably making a fuss over a customer in hopes for a higher pay for the whole lot of them. They accidentally caught the eye of a tall brunette She eyed Sweeney then called out to Mrs. Lovett, "Oi! Reddi!"

She didn't so much as glance at the harlot, but that didn't wipe the disgusting grin on her dirty face. "Stop 'oggin' all the best o' to yerself!" Sweeney felt the baker stiffened at her words, but say anything or look at her.

A blonde standing beside her joined in, "Yeah, wots the deal? Go' a problem wiv sharin', love?" they all laughed wicked, making Lovett tighten her grip on the barber's arms. They quickly made to stride away, not wanting nay part in their childish behavior, when a voice was thrown in the air. A voice that held alarm, as well as realization.

"Mr. Todd? Mrs. Lovett? Is that you?"

They froze on the spot. Then, very slowly, they turned, their eyes widening in shock.

Beadle Bamford made an effort of pushing past the small crowd of whores that had surrounded them, no doubt working together in an attempt to rob him blind, and rushed over to the pair. Sweeney's breath hitched din his throat as he held back a low growl. After what had happened that night, the Beadle was on the last people he needed to catch sight of.

The pudgy man stopped in front of them, hunched over as he tried to catch his breath. A very pathetic sight really, almost pitiful when the fact stood that they were not but ten feet away hard against him. The barber and baker mentally debated with themselves on whether or not they should make a run for it while he did so.

But soon, he caught his breath smiled sickening fake sweet grin at them. They glared in return but the Beadle took no notice. "If I may ask," the fat man started. "What bring the two of you out here, roaming the streets of London at such a late hour."

Sweeney glanced at Mrs. Lovett, hoping she'd come up with a decent enough lie, but she was through with that for the moment. "Our 'ouse burned down." she replied gloomily, her eyes shining as they filled with tears for what felt like the fifth time that night.

The Beadle gasped, his chubby hand flying to his mouth in shock. "MY! Well, what ever are you doing out here?" he waved his hand about the streets. "Why, you should be on your way to the Judge's house!"

Mrs. Lovett felt Sweeney stiffen around her arms at the mention of the Judge. She gave his arm a nervous squeeze, hoping he wouldn't growl like she knew he was about to.

"And why, may I ask sir, would we do that? Its not like he just pay for such _damages _himself." he sneered, his frown more evident with each venomous word that spat from his mouth.

But the Beadle took no notice, instead he stared at the barber wide eyed, like he'd grown a second head. "Well, He more than certain would be able to help you out _some _way, I assure you!" he grinned again and walked past the two. He turned to them. "Well, come now, we haven't got all night!" he called in irritation.

As soon as he turned his back again Sweeney strode as quickly as he could in the opposite direction. He only made it no more than what could've been five feet before he felt Mrs. Lovett's petite hand grasp his forearm desperately.

"Love, please, jus' for the nig-", "No." he cut her off bluntly and continued to walk, but she held onto to him. "Mr. , please, your not seein' to reason!" he looked at her, a dark frown etched on his stone hard face.

"Oh, and suppose 'seein' to reason' means to follow that fat man back to the Judge's home, slit both their throats 'real quick-like'," the barber impersonated her voice, his pitch high and sweetly before it dropped down like a fat stone in a shallow creak. "And we on our merry way. Is that it, Lovett?" he snarled.

She just shot him a dirty look. "I do no' sound like tha', Mr. T." she whined in an all too childishly upset tone, her plum red lips went into a pout.

Sweeney rolled his eyes and turned to yank his arm from her hands, but she just tugged at his arms and turned him back to face her, gripping his face in her hand tightly, her eyes wide with rage and her teeth bared.

"Mr. T, I'm bein' serious." Lovett hissed fiercely in his face,m not caring if it pissed him off or not. " Its far too late to be lookin' for an inn and My feet are bloody killin' me!" she spat, her voice just up a whisper. "Either you get your damned arse on your way to the Judge's 'ouse," Here the baker dug her nails in Sweeney's skull as she yanked at his coal black hair. "Or I will tear your lower 'alf and drag it there myself!" she snarled and threw him away.

Sweeney stumbled at first, trying to catch his footing. Then he stared wide eyed at her like she'd grown a second head. Had that really happened? In all his years he had not known Mrs. Lovett to be so..._vicious._

Not wanting to push his luck or test the baker's threat, the barber put on a solid stone face and followed Mrs. Lovett in trailing in the Beadles footsteps, hoping his position looked a little manly, like he was in charge. But with her holding her head high, shoulders back and back straight, it seemed she was leading him on a leash.

* * *

><p>No one said a word when they came to stop in front of the Judge's home. Sweeney and Lovett watched intently as the fat man fumbled with his many copper keys, the jingling chiming irritating the two so that they shifted uncomfortably and huffed annoyingly<p>

"Just a moment..." the Beadle grunted as he looked intently at every key on his key ring. "Aha!" he gladly exclaimed as he held up a, old fashioned copper key, tarnished and rusty through years of use. He slipped it into the key hole and turned it left. After a distinct _click_, he grabbed the handle and pushed.

The Beadle led Sweeney and Lovett through the house with ease, glancing at the two every few steps, no doubt checking to make sure they didn't try and steal something. Judge Turpin may have been a rich and powerful man, having no problems replacing anything they could've stole. But that by no means he enjoyed being crossed in the least.

The two eyed the interior with a sense of interest and awe rather than greed and hunger. Their dark eyes swept over every little gold or marble statue that sat in certain corners of rooms they passed, ran over the fine multi- colored rug they walked on, the flowery yet dark wallpaper over the never ending walls, and the occasional instrument that sat in different rooms. The pair was convinced that the Judge didn't know how to play such graceful objects, such as a harp or a cello, and rather used them as mere decorations, both knowing very well how the man loved to display his status in society as well as his wealth.

Soon, the three came to a white painted door left ajar. The beadle peeked inside then pulled back to shyly push the door open to reveal the Judge sitting at a large, dark oak desk buried with various papers with a very irritated look on his face. He had his head in his hands, then looked up at the sound of the creaking door open.

Sweeney felt his jaw tighten and his eyes darken with rage at the very sight of him. Lovett felt him tense up beside her and instinctive;y grabbed his hand, entwining his pale fingers with her petite own.

She expected him to pull away from her, but did not. He tightened his grip on her small hand, secretly looking for comfort. The very thought of it made the baker smile happily.

"My Lord," The Beadle spoke up meekly. The Judge grimaced as if his voice were metal spikes on a black board. "What is it, Beadle!" he hissed angrily through clenched teeth. "Can you not see that I am very busy!" he waved about his desk littered with papers.

The Beadle bowed his head apologetically, looking like a pathetic lap dog. "I see sir, but I have these two over here," he stepped aside to allow the Judge a view of the barber and baker, who paled at his widening eyes. "that require your assistance immediately, as their house has burned down very recently."

At first, Turpin only stared wide eyed at the pair, then motioned for them to come forward into the room. They did so meekly, fingers still entwined. The Judge's eyes instantly fell onto this, his face falling blank.

"How did this fire come to destroy your home?" he asked slowly, his voice low and thoughtful. Sweeney and Lovett glanced at each other and fell silent. Then, the baker spoke up silently, "We uh...we had a little argument..." she shifted uncomfortably under the Judge's strong, suspicious gaze and looked to the ground shyly. "A-a candle fell and..." Here Turpin raise a hand to silence her.

"Say no more, Mrs. Lovett," he stopped her firmly, facing the pair with a soft smile, his eyes deep as he stared at her. She again shifted her weight from one foot to the other, stepping a little closer to Sweeney, her grasp on his hand tightening. He didn't move or say anything, just let her do, not really blaming her for feeling uncomfortable.

"I intend to help as to the best of my abilities.", "Bullshit." the barber muttered under his breath. Lovett glared at him and made to kick his leg lightly, to which he didn't respond.

Turpin rose form the desk and strode over to the pair. "Come with me," he commanded, walking past the pair before stopping in front the door. "you may rest here for the night while I figure out a solution for your situation in the morning."

Sweeney had half a mind to whip out his razor right then and there and the other half to spit in his face. There was no way he could sleep in the same hell hole as this monster and restrain from slicing his fat neck. Just when he was about to open his mouth to spit in his face, Lovett spoke up, again giving his hand a squeeze.

"Oh, we wouldn't want to impose-", "Nonsense, my dear," the Judge's deep, silky voice cut her off gladly with a small grin. "You are guests in my home and I refuse to allow you both to wander the perilous streets of London at such a dangerous hour." he waked out of the room without another word.

They stared at the spot he once stood, faces twisted in irritation and annoyance. The beadle shook his head slightly and ushered the the two out in the hall after him. "Well, get along now!" he encouraged gladly with a smirk.

Having no other choice, Lovett gulped silently and tugged at Sweeney's hand tight in her grip and followed the Judge.

They walked further into the house, the rooms soon began to blur into the same ones as they past them, as well as the never ending narrow hallway. Turpin didn't seem to notice the daggers the barber was glaring into his back or the uncomfortable feel of the baker as she fidgeted with her skirts.

Finally, the Judge came to a sudden halt in a front of a tall dark burgundy door. He turned to the two with a gentle smile. "You may spend your night's rest in here." he opened the door and pushed through with a silent creak of the wood.

Inside, there were two large king sized beds with baby blue comforters and pearly white sheets. The bed was adorned with many voluminous egg shell pillows. The wood floor seemed to shine brightly, despite the lack of light in the room. There were light green curtains and light yellow walls with two four paned windows.

Lovett's eyes swept over the room with an approving eye. Sweeney only grunted at the light shading of the room and the sickly calming blue color. He'd much prefer black or red, something that meant something malicious and devious, not clam beaches and serene mountain springs.

Their thoughts were interrupted when the Judge spoke humbly, "I hop everything is to your liking."

In habit of politeness despite the circumstances, the baker turned to him with a gentle smile and clasped her hands together. "Oh, I its just lovely! 'M sure I won't be 'avin' trouble sleepin' in such a quiet little room." he grinned back, a certain gleam in his eyes that she just couldn't her finger on and left with a bow, the Beadle trailing quickly behind.

When the door shut, Sweeney whipped around to face her with a sneer. "What the hell are you thinking, woman!" he yelled quietly, his hands clenched into fists.

Mrs. Lovett pouted and planted her hands on her hips. "Well, I was thinkin' of gettin' us a place to stay for the night, seein' as you obviously 'adn't a clue-", " We couldn't found a bloody inn!" he argued loudly.

"Would you shut your bloody mouth! It don' matter cos it would've taken us hours to find the nearest inn, no' to mention we ain't got no money on us!" she countered in a loud whisper.

He turned away form her with a growl and went to climb in bed, furiously wresting with the voluminous blankets and pillows in order to get comfortable. Mrs. Lovett sighed and went to bed herself, being smarter to remove the large comforter and unnecessary pillows before wrapping herself in the thin blankets. She was asleep withing minuets.

The barber, however, spent the whole night tossing and turning in aggravation. He did not feel comfortable in the home of his worst enemy, not at all. He knew the Judge was planning something the moment he was the smirk cross his face at the sight of them. He knew a perverted, disgusting man such as him would not help them.

No, he would not help them in the least.


	5. Chapter 5

The smoke choked her lungs and burned her eyes, the golden colors of bright red and sunset orange blinding her as she staggered aimlessly through the room. She felt the flames lick at her bare ankles and climb up her skirts, making her hiss in pain. The heat surrounded her and gripped her body like an old, abandoned house being taken over by strong vines.

Mrs. Lovett's hands grabbed at the smoky air, hoping to find a wall that wasn't aflame to cling onto. She closed her eyes tightly and held her breath. The whole place was on fire, the wood from the ceiling cracking and collapsing with a scream to the floor. For what she could see, Mrs. Lovett only saw the monster flames roar in her face, making her draw back in fear of their venomous bite.

"TOBY!" She called out, her voice raw from screaming in fright as she choked and gagged. When she got no reply, the baker continued to stagger through her pie shop, struggling with her heavy dress and tight corset.

"_TOBY!" _Mrs . Lovett cried out again, tears spilling over her flushed face. The tears, unlike normal tears of misery and woe, the salty water slid down her face and burned like boiling water, sizzling slightly as they dribbled off her chin.

Just when she was sure she was ready to just lay there and die, she heard a small, weak voice cry out meekly, "Mum!"

Mrs. Lovett's head snapped up, looking every which way for the source of the voice. She called his name out again, tears spilling over her skin, covered in a thick sheet of sweat. "Mum!"

She held her breath and rushed to the parlor, dashing through the flames without fear at it nipped and snapped at the hem of her skirts. The room was no different form the rest of the shop- the flaming monsters resting about the room, eating away at the furniture and walls. "TOBY!" she cried out desperately

She heard loud, trouble coughs in the corner and sure enough, there the boy was, crumpled on the floor behind the settee. Mrs. Lovett wasted no time in rushing by his side, the roar of the flames drowned out by his broken sobs and pain filled coughs.

"Don't worry, love," she tried to sound calm, but failed as her voice trembled with her distress and panic. "Everything's gonna fine, I'll get you outta 'ere!" but before she could lay a finger on him, she felt rough, calloused hands grab her forearms, jerking her back.

Mrs. Lovett fought with all her might to escape the vice-like grip that held her, but to no avail as she was suddenly pulled out of the building. Now she knelt on the cobblestone ground, watching the flames engulf the whole place violently.

At first she just sat there, staring dumbfounded at the fire. Then, in a burst of energy, shot toward the building with a cry of desperation when she was pulled back again.

Mrs. Lovett quickly recognized Sweeney when she heard a low growl escape his throat as he pressed her tightly against his chest. Still she struggled against his strong arms.

She screamed and cried, but no matter what she did his grip was unyielding and he said not a word. Mrs. Lovett watched with wide, teary eyes as the building crumpled to the ground in defeat. She swore she heard a small voice scream out its pain and agony.

"**TOBY!"**

Mrs. Lovett shot out of bed, gasping rapidly as she gripped the sheets until her knuckles turned white. She was aware of the thin sheet of sweat that covered her body and the thunder of her rapidly beating heart.

She looked around the room, only to have the the sun-brightened walls stare back. The room first seemed completely vacant but her. Then she glanced at the bed across the room and spotted strands of black coal hair poking out the comforter.

The clicking of the door opening caught the baker's attention as a brunette maid solemnly walked in. She looked at Mrs. Lovett with boredom in her eyes and a frown on her face.

Without a word she began to gather her dress things in her arms lazily. The redhead watched her with confusion before calling out as the maid headed for the door. "Oi! I'll be needin' those!"

The maid stopped and looked back at her with a blank expression and a raised eye brow. "Oh? Then I assume you'll be changing in _private?"_she spoke lowly. Mrs. Lovett felt her face flush red as eh glanced at Sweeney, still asleep, on the bed just across the room. She could've sworn she saw the slightest hint of a smirk on the maids face as she shut the door gently behind her.

The baker sat in bed for a moment, staring at the barber's rising and falling form as he breathed easily with admiration in her eyes. Then, she slowly stood and reached into the nearby dresser for a robe to head out and follow the maid.

She poked her head out and caught a glimpse of the woman's wavy, light brown hair just around the corner. Mrs. Lovett trailed behind her like a puppy on an invisible leash.

She then stepped aside to a door in a narrow hall. Opening it, the baker saw it was a bathroom, and a very pristine one at that. It have had to have been at least polished marble, all in white, with lining of gold. While she eyed the room, eyes squinted in its brightness, the maid set out her clothes on the sink and turned to her.

"Please do hurry and dress. The Judge expects you down at the dinner hall for breakfast in less than an hour." with that, she left silently as she had come and gone before- a bored sigh and a slight roll of her eyes.

Mrs. Lovett dressed hurriedly, applying a little blush she had found under the sink, and went out. She stood in the middle of the hallway for a good five minuets. Then, before a great realization came to her like a pound of bricks, her eyes widening.

"Where the bloody 'ell _AM I?"_

* * *

><p>Sweeney Todd didn't care much for the morning. The sun's bright, ever changing colors annoyed him to no end. Plenty of people make sure to get up extra early in the morning to witness a sun rise, so graceful, so beautiful. He'd never understood these people, for in the end, it was only a ball of light in the sky, lighting up the whole of the Earth. Yet still, men walk around blind.<p>

But for someone who never bothered to sleep like the barber did, the nightmares too tormenting, he saw every sun rise there was to be seen.

And he was sick of it.

It is without wonder that Sweeney awoke that morning in a fit of grunts and growling. He tossed and turned in the sheets, trying to block the sun's bright, blinding rays. When he found the action quite inevitable, he threw the blankets off with a loud sigh and quickly got dressed. It nerved him ever so to be in the Judge's house without trousers on.

Sweeney took a look around the room, glowering at the light in the room. The sun light that spilled through the window, splashing onto the polished wood floors. The light then reflected to the walls, literally brightening up the whole room. He glanced at the messy state he'd left it; the pillows all in a disheveled heap, the blankets and sheets tangled and half on the floor. A shrug of the shoulder and a roll of the eyes convinced him enough to get him through the threshold.

But as he stalked across the floor, Sweeney finally spotted the bed next to the doorway. It was slightly less messy than his own, like someone had tried to fix but had to hurry along. It was obviously very vacant.

His eyes widened and he rushed out the door. "**MRS. LOVETT**!" The barber called out as he ran through the mansion. "**MRS. LOVETT**!" He ignored the strange and frightened stares of the servants he passed in the narrow halls and continued to run in a panic.

* * *

><p><strong>`AN: Sorry its been so long since I last updated, I don't why I didn't sooner since I'm always so bored. But Hopefully this is good enough, even though I know its not.**


	6. Chapter 6

Mrs. Lovett smiled nervously at the Judge and Beadle as she entered the dinning hall. Her fiery, disheveled red curls bobbed with her head as she panted, shoulders and chest raising and falling rapidly, leaning heavily against the door frame. She had spent a good half hour wandering through the humongous house in search of the dinning room. It was only but a few minuets ago before she arrived did a young servant girl, bless her kind heart, spoke up with a giggle after watching the baker go around in circles the whole time, unbeknownst to Mrs. Lovett. She accepted the help with a huge, relieved grin and the maid escorted her to the dinning hall.

Judge Turpin looked up from his plate to look at the weary woman with surprised, slightly relieved eyes. The Beadle didn't even glance her way, his eyes never leaving his plate.

"I had thought you wouldn't be joining us." Turpin spoke calmly, going back to his plate of something Mrs. Lovett couldn't quite tell what. The table was a very long and very wide table of what she assumed was dark marble. It took up most of the room, leaving very little space for the baker to edge her way toward her seat. She chuckled lightly, striding toward the table. "Well, love, your 'ome ain't exactly a small, or easy, place to get aroun' in." she gasped as she plopped herself in a chair beside the Judge's side. He only grinned playfully and went back to his plate. .

She blew an exhausted sigh and rubbed her forehead in irritation. The Judge eyed her wearily. "You seem tired." he stated, his deep voice laced with concern. She sighed once more, "_Very_ tired..."

He nodded his head and snapped his fingers. Instantly, there was a brunette maid at her side. She was there so suddenly, Lovett jumped and let out a startled yelp.

The maid took no notice and looked at her expectantly. The baker only stared back with slightly wide eyes. The woman cleared her throat and asked in a meek tone, "Miss? Anything I can get you this morning?" Mrs. Lovett shook her head and smiled sweetly at the girl.

"Y-Yes, please. I-I'll have...Uh...fried eggs and sausage?" she asked shyly, not sure what exactly a Judge would have in stock in his kitchen. The maid nodded and went off to god only knows where.

She stretched her arms out and gave a long yawn, drawing the Judge's eyes to her. "I trust you slept well?" he asked in his deep low voice, not meeting her eyes. "Hm? Oh, yes, thank you." she regarded with a frown. The tense silence that followed had her wriggling in her seat from the uncomfortableness of it. She really couldn't think of anything to say. Mrs. Lovett glanced to her right.

The Beadle was inhaling his plate, it seemed, as he scoffed everything down like he hadn't eaten in weeks. She reeled back in disgust as bits of morsels of his food came flying at her. Mrs. Lovett scooted her seat a noticeable distance towards the Judge. SO close, that when the baker brought her hand up to twirl with a lock of her red hair, the smooth, porcelain flesh of her petite fingers gently brushed against the Judge's.

He froze, his gaze snapping to the odd woman beside him. She paid him no attention, however, didn't even acknowledge the contact. Her eyes only widened, a smile stretching from ear to ear as the maid came back with her food. Just as she had asked, there two perfect looking fried eggs and six or pieces of drown sausage links. TO say the least she looked like a child on Christmas morning.

Just as sh was about to dig in, Sweeney Todd chose that moment to burst into the run. "**WHERE THE BLOODY HELL IS SHE, YOU**-" He came to a screeching halt when his eyes landed on Mrs. Lovett, calmly sitting beside the Judge, who wore the look of someone who had been busted by the coppers.

For a moment, everyone froze and looked at each other. Even the beadle was now looking at the barber like he'd just escaped from bedlam. Which wasn't as far from the truth as most would think.

Mrs. Lovett cleared her throat after a while, drawing everyone's attention to her. "'Ow kind of you to finally join us, Mr. Todd." she spoke calmly with an air of awkwardness. Sweeney looked from her to the Judge and back to her, his eyes wide.

Then, he let a wave of relief wash over him. Upon finding the baker missing, the barber had thought up a million different scenarios in which she was subjected to the Judge. None of which he had any intention of finding real.

Sweeney rubbed down the brown leather vest he wore and held his head high. Mrs. Lovett felt a fit of giggles build up in her throat seeing the demon barber try and compose himself. He strode toward the table as she offered a seat next to her. When he was seated a maid was at his side, asked what it is he'd like to eat. All he'd replied was, "Toast," in that stony voice that sounded so far away.

The breakfast was long and tense. No one spoke, not with their mouths, anyway. They let their eyes speak for them, lest words give away much more than what was said in tone.

Mrs. Lovett tried to keep her eyes on her plate, but kept straying toward the Judge. There was something about him that just wasn't right. Something more wrong than usual. Maybe it was the way that his dark eyes seemed to be trained on her whenever they were in the same room. Maybe it was the knowledge that he had raped Lucy in the past and now held the woman's daughter captive that upset her so much to be near him. What ever the reason, the baker kept her eyes peeled on his face that betrayed no clue to his thoughts. She continued to sneak discreet glances at the man every now and then, her eyes filled with a slight quiver fear and suspicion.

Sweeney, too, kept his dark eyes on the Judge, a murderous glint in his eye. When the maid came back with a tall glass of water and a plate of a couple of slices of buttered toast and a few fried eggs. He didn't say anything about it, but only ate absentmindedly, his eyes never leaving the Judge's form. Even if he had nothing to do with Mrs. Lovett's disappearance, it made Sweeney all the more suspicious. They way he watched the man could only be described as the way a lion watches an Zebra drinking from a river bank.

These looks of suspicion and disgust did not go unnoticed by the Judge. He kept his eyes on his plate, sneaking a few looks of suspicion in turn to the two. Sweeney's arrival into the room had only unsettled him, leaving Judge Turpin to question the barber's sanity. _Of course, _he thought to himself reasonably. _They could be lovers..._The thought made him grimace. This was not something he thought to dwell on. Not only would it ruin his plans for the pair, but it would also bruise his ego to find the baker favoring a mere barber over a greatly respected, honorable Judge such as himself. _Oh, well, no harm done,_ Turpin thinks arrogantly. _Even if they do share...certain feelings toward each other, a relationship out of wedlock will certainly not be allowed in my town. He_ feels his stone lips pull at the corners, displaying the briefest and smallest of smirks.

Breakfast passes uneventful, however, leaving the three to stare at one another awkwardly for a while after the dishes have been taken away. Then, Judge Turpin speaks.

"I have arranged a solution to your predicament." his low, deep voice throws the words into he air. They hang there idly as the pair stare at him, their stare hardening with thought and suspicion. Turpin clears his throat and continues. "Seeing as both your shops have been utterly destroyed beyond repair," he starts with a silent sigh of false regret. "Its only reasonable that I employ the two of you here."

Within the blink of an eye, Sweeney shoots out of his chair, razor ready in his hand and a vicious snarl on his face. "What exactly are you proposing, _my lord?"_He spits out the last two words like poison. Mrs. Lovett glances at the barber, her eyes obvious with her alarm and fright as she grips his sleeve tightly.

Judge Turpin clears his throat, unfazed by the barber's outburst and answers calmly, "Why, I would hire _you, _barber, as my own personal barber. You would receive a very generous amount of pay, of course-", "**I DON'T GIVE TWO SHITS ABOUT THE DAMNED PAY, I AM ****NOT**** WORKING FOR ****YOU****!" **Sweeney screamed in a rage, his eyes on fire.

Turpin just could not hold back the corners of his mouth as they turned up in to a wicked smirk.

The nasty smile only enraged the barber more. He took a step toward the Judge but Mrs. Lovett held him back. She tightened her grip on his arm.

The Judge leaned back in his seat, his lengthy and stubby fingers entwined. The smirk never left his face as he said with a dark gleam in his eyes, "Well, I assure you, Mr. Todd, that there is no other way." The baker held her grip on his arm as he jerked about, trying to throw her off. Turpin went on, the wicked gleam in his eyes never fading.

"For you see, Mr. Todd, you have no where else to go. I offer you the chance to live in my humble abode, have what ever dish you desire, and best of all-" he smiled a sickly sweet grin that had bile raising in the pair's throat. "to serve the great, honorable Judge Turpin himself."

Sweeney however just kept struggling against his landlady, his teeth bared and his face set on rage. "I DON'T CARE! I'D RATHER WASTE AWAY ON THE STREETS THAN LIVE IN YOUR PRESENCE A MOMENT MORE!" The barber than made his way to the door, dragging Mrs. Lovett with him as she still had her arms locked around his.

Turpin frowned and sat up. He was through with the man's stubbornness. He was ready to call men to have him thrown out when Mrs. Lovett turned her head to take a quick glance at the Judge. Her face was filled with alert and worry.

His evil smirk was back on in an instant.

"Oh, so I suppose you'd not only let yourself rot in the streets on London, but your landlady as well?" Sweeney froze. His hand had reached out for the handle, but then the words reached his ears first.

The barber hadn't a clue why he stopped, his hand positioned just on the knob. But the mention of Mrs. Lovett coming from the Judge made him tense in fear and alarm.

"How shameful you are, Todd, to let a beautiful, innocent woman suffer for your stubborn actions and ill temper. How dishonorable!" Turpin spat with venom, his face set in a scowl.

Sweeney paused for a moment before turning to face him. His face was stone cold, no expression whatsoever. His hands fell to his sides as he fully turned to face him. Mrs. Lovett looked from one to the other, her eyes wide in anticipation. They fell onto the Judge's and in that instant, she had caught that little flame in them. It flickered and wavered but kept its form. It was a dark flame, dark and malicious. She knew instantly it was lust.

Mrs. Lovett's eyes snapped back to the barber to see him glare down with the Judge, and the judge stare back, a wicked and clever smirk plastered on his face. She watched as Sweeney intake a breath, before opening his mouth to speak. 


End file.
